Vows
by Gamma Orionis
Summary: Were it her choice, Bellatrix would not have had a wedding reception. Written for DobbyRocksSocks' Ultimate OTP Competition on the HPFC Forum.


Author's Notes: Written for the third round of DobbyRocksSocks' Ultimate OTP Competition on the HPFC Forum, with the prompt "Dialogue: 'til death do us part... that can be arranged'".

)O(

Were it her choice, Bellatrix would not have had a wedding reception. She had no interest in standing for hours on end in her wedding dress, beside Rodolphus, smiling at the guests and family members who felt compelled to tell her what an excellent choice she had made in marrying a Lestrange, as if it had been her choice. The only person at the event who she wanted to speak to was the Dark Lord, who was standing some ways back, away from the flurry of people congratulating the newly wedded couple.

It seemed as if he stood there for a very long time, simply observing, before he caught her eye and tilted his head a fraction of an inch towards the door.

Trying to shake off Rodolphus was a great frustration – he was still so enraptured by the novelty of being married that he protested against the idea of even so much as letting go of her hand – but she managed it at last, and caught up to the Dark Lord in a secluded corridor. She moved to kiss him, but he placed one hand firmly on her shoulder, holding her back.

"Master?"

"You are a married woman, Bellatrix," he told her, though he made no move to push her away, and, indeed, stood so close to her that their bodies were a fraction of an inch away from touching.

"I am married in name only. My marriage is meaningless."

"So quick to forget fidelity," he said idly, and lifted one hand to her arm to trace one finger around the edge of the Dark Mark as he spoke. "Not yet a day after your wedding, and here you are, already falling into the arms of another man. Shameful."

"It would be shameful if it were anyone else, my Lord."

He closed his fingers tightly around her wrist, so tightly that she winced, and pinned her arm against the wall. His lips were inches from her ear, and he breathed, "Does loyalty mean so little to you, Bellatrix?"

"Only my supposed loyalty to Rodolphus Lestrange." She flexed her fingers, trying to dislodge his painfully tight grip. "He knows as well as I do that the marriage is for show – he knows that he may take lovers as freely as I."

"You made wedding vows, Bellatrix. Vows have meaning." His tone was firm, as if she was receiving a reprimand, and yet the hand not around her wrist was on her breast, and his body was close against hers. "You vowed to be faithful to Rodolphus for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health..."

"Until death do us part," she finished, and tried to judge his reaction to the phrase. His face was impassive. He wasn't even looking her in the eye. She couldn't begin to predict what he might think when she said, tentatively, "I could make that happen, my Lord."

"Could you?" He sounded no more interested than if she had mentioned the weather.

"Yes. Until death do us part... it could be arranged." Her heart was beating quickly, her breath coming short. "No one is more vulnerable than a husband to his wife. I could have him dead on the morrow. And then, you and I would be free to..." She trailed off, and let her hand brush tentatively against his shoulder.

"You would be willing to kill your husband, Bellatrix, so as to avoid breaking your marriage vows to him?" His lips curved upwards but his eyes remained the same: calm, calculating, contemptuous.

"If that is what would please you. I mean only to please you, my Lord."

He considered her. His eyes lingered for far too long on her skirt where she had begun to lift it, and on her bodice where the neck had been lowered by a few inches. She felt blood rushing to her cheeks.

"There is no need to kill a perfectly capable Death Eater. And Rodolphus _is_ capable, as you well know," he added, even before Bellatrix could open her mouth to protest that surely there were better men in his ranks than Rodolphus. "Not yet, at any rate."

"Not yet?"

He sighed, and gave her a pitying look. "You know as well as I that all Death Eaters fail eventually, and must be disposed of when they do. Do you believe that your husband would be exempt from that?"

Bellatrix tried not to let surprise show on her face. The Dark Lord had never so much as mentioned his practice of disposing of Death Eaters when they became useless – oh, it was common enough knowledge, but no one _said_ that he did it. Not out loud.

"And- and you would- when he failed, you would..."

"When he is dead, I will bed you again. Exercise patience, Bellatrix: it is a virtue."

"Yes, Master." It struck her as strange that the Dark Lord took issue with the idea of infidelity, but not with promising to take her to bed once he had killed her husband, but who was she to question her Master's morals? "But..."

He didn't say anything, but he didn't cut her off when she hesitated, and she dared to ask, "My Lord, what if I prove useless before he does?"

A faint expression of amusement appeared briefly on his face.

"Then you will be killed first, of course. If that troubles you, then you must simply take further precautions to ensure that you will never be useless to me."

)O(

_Fin_


End file.
